


A Ride with Negan

by PastPresentFiction



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Motorcycle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24674779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastPresentFiction/pseuds/PastPresentFiction
Summary: Negan's escaped his cell.  I've gone to find him, hoping that he won't be a huge pain in my ass.  I'm going to have to have a LONG talk with my niece about letting him go, right after I make sure Negan gets back in his cage safe and sound...eventually.
Relationships: Negan (Walking Dead)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This popped into my head the other night. I'm not sure it's going to grow into a multi-chapter story or a one-shot, we'll have to wait and see.

I was pissed. Judith had let him go. She’d seen him escaping and instead of shooting him stone cold dead, she just let him go. When I was finished finding his sorry ass, I was going to have a VERY long chat with my baby niece. A very long and very detailed chat. One that Michonne would be pissed at me for, but damn it, something had to be done to keep her away from Negan.

Negan. I cursed the name as it passed through my thoughts. An asshole who killed our friends and family members. A psychopath who gutted a man practically in our front yard. And my brother’s youngest thinks he’s somehow a pet or safe to set loose on the damn world.

The world might be a shithole, but it did NOT deserve for him to be unleashed again. He’d cost our people so fucking much, and with a twinge I thought of Carl. Of his wish for peace. Of his last wish, that we’d find a way. Well, Rick had, and if he were still here he’d be livid.

Livid, I thought, but patient. Judith was young, and in most ways, sheltered. He’d want me to go easy with her, but be firm. To show her that Negan was untrustworthy. That he wasn’t sweet or innocent. That he wasn’t redeemed.

I came across him almost by accident. I was walking in the middle of the road when I heard the roar of a motorcycle and for a split second “Daryl” flew through my mind. But that was ridiculous. Fuel was more than scarce, so he hadn’t rode up for months. And as I planted my feet and took my gun into my hands, I saw exactly who it was.

I fired, and the bike swerved. And as he came to a stop, nearly falling off and colliding with the very hard ground, I grinned. Fucker. I walked over to him and looked down as he struggled to get the bike upright. My gun was pointed directly at his head and he had the nerve to laugh.

“You look pretty damn fierce right now, princess.” I groaned. He always called me that. As though a term of endearment would make me forget who he was. As though calling me a princess would make me like him. He righted the bike and stayed asride it. “Why don’t you hop on here and I’ll take you for a ride.” I could hear the smugness rolling through the innuendo. The dare for me to play with him, to show him that I wasn’t scared of him or impressed by him was heavy in the air.

He watched me as I carefully tucked my gun away, far out of his reach, and then swung my leg over the bike so I was straddling it facing him. Checkmate. There were only inches of seat separating us, and I did nothing to close the small gap. “Well?” I asked, arching my eyebrow as he looked down at me. “What happened to all that cockiness you’re known for, Negan?”

His thumb touched my chin, tilting my head back further, and he smirked down at me. “You wouldn’t know what to do with my cockiness, princess.” Another dare, far more obvious than the first. His thumb brushed against my lower lip and I watched his eyes darken as my tongue came out to flick the tip of it. “Would you?”  
My hand reached up and curled behind his head, pulling his face toward me. As our noses touched, our breath mingling, it was my turn to smile. “Oh, I know plenty.” I rubbed his nose with mine. “I just don’t think you could handle me.”

I started to pull away, planning on standing and getting off the damn bike, but I felt his hands move to the tops of my thighs. And then they were on my hips and he yanked me forward, closing those few inches. Shit.

“Teasing me, princess?” He asked, letting his long fingers curl around my ass. “Tell me you don’t want to, and I’ll let you up and we’ll get back to you wanting to kill me.” His voice was quiet and low. Deep and dark. And fuck if it didn’t sound like temptation itself.

Did I want to? Did I want to give in just once, just one dance with the devil before locking him back away from the world? If my panties were any indication, the answer was a firm yes. Was I really going to ride Negan? Yes.

I nodded up at him, swallowing hard as his face came closer, and then our lips met and I felt like every single nerve on my body was woken up. Jesus. I opened my mouth and our tongues brushed against one another and I moaned as he growled at the feeling. My hands were locked on his head as he moved up my back to press our bodies tighter together. My hands moved, sliding down, gripping the fake leather jacket he’d found somewhere during his furlough from his cell.

He nipped my bottom lip and dipped in to taste my mouth again as I tugged at the jacket, wanting to feel the warmth of him. I felt him chuckle and then the jacket was gone, and his hands were at the buttons of my flannel shirt. His fingers were more nimble than I would have thought, given his time alone in a cell and then my shirt was open and he was tossing it to join his jacket on the ground beside the bike. His hands slid down the thin tank that I’d put under the flannel, and smiled as he groaned.

“No bra, Miss Grimes?” He whispered against my damp lips. He started to tsk, but my hands slithered under his t-shirt and he had to stop to swallow hard. Fuck, how was he still roped in muscles? Wasn’t his only amusement a fucking handball? My nails scraped his skin and his eyes locked on mine. “Don’t tease, princess.” A threat and a dare all rolled into one. My hands fisted the shirt and then it was over his head and tossed on our growing pile. My tank met the same fate, and there, under the muddled sunlight, we drank in the vision of our naked chests.

Negan’s hands, those long ass fingers of his, traced my bare skin. He seemed starved for the feel of bare skin. Of bare female skin, and I recalled for a moment the memory that he’d had multiple wives once upon a time. Starved, thirsty, and finally able to get what he so clearly needed like air, the breath left me as he lowered his head and let his mouth close around one of my turgid peeks. My fingers found the rough buzz of hair that covered his head, as my eyes closed at the feeling of his hot mouth, nipping teeth, and flicking tongue.

“Fuck, princess, you taste like sugar.” His breath, hot against my skin, but cool on the dampness he’d created made me arch closer to his mouth. “Shit, I’m gonna enjoy the fuck out of you.” And then he turned his attention to the other nipple, nipping gently as my fingernails scraped his scalp.

“Who fucking cut your hair, Negan?” I gasped, feeling a nick on the side of his head. “A blind barber with a rusty knife?” His chuckle vibrated my breast and I nearly died from the feeling. He lapped at me, throwing any reservations I may have had about continuing right out the fucking window. Thank God I hadn’t known he could be like THIS, I thought, cause I may have fought Rick to keep him as my own personal pleasure machine.

And then he was kissing and sucking his way back up my body, nipping just this side of too hard at my pulse point, and then licking away the discomfort. His hot mouth was breathing against my earlobe when he gave the one order I’d actually take from him. “Take off your pants, sweetheart.”

We both rose, and worked fast to remove the remaining clothes we had left. I was trying to wrap my head around keeping my gun close or keeping his body close when he helped me with the conundrum. “Just put it here,” he patted the ground right next to us, and I carefully set it down, then just to be sure, I slid my boots back on and put my knife inside, so I could grab it just in case.

“If you so much as glance-” I started, as he pulled me to him and then threw his leg back over the bike’s seat. I followed suit, ready to finish my thought but he cut me off by claiming my mouth again.

“You’ll fucking kill me,” he supplied, pulling away long enough to answer. “I know, princess, I know.” Then before he could dive in again, I felt his lips curve into a smile against mine. “Trust me, it’s not your fucking gun or knife I’m planning on focusing on right now.”

And then, with his arms wrapped around me, lifting me slightly and lining himself up with my body, he slowly slid me down onto his rock hard cock, our lips left one another’s. Holy shit. I bit his shoulder to keep from screaming at the feeling of fullness. I felt myself twitching around him, tightening at the mere feeling of our heat combining. Rocking my hips slightly, I heard him hiss.

“Fuck,” we both whispered, and then shared a slight laugh. Who fucking knew? Who knew that Negan of all people could feel like this?

He started thrusting into me, and I forgot that we were on a bike. That we could fall off or fall over. I forgot where we were, that danger was lurking everywhere, because all I could keep my attention on was him inside of me, his lips sucking at my collarbone, and our mingling moans and sighs. It didn’t take either of us long. Hell, I’m fairly sure we were both more than halfway there before our pants joined the pile of our clothes on the ground. As we climbed together, higher and higher, Negan started to talk me through it.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight.” That deep, dark voice of his, growing lower and lower. Sounding pained, but also on the cusp of fucking pleasure. “Like a fucking vise around me.” And I ground down on him, rolling my hips, searching for my own release. “Shit, fuck, just like that, sweetheart, just fucking like that.” Then it happened, we both seemed to arch into one another, his words no longer words, my moans taking on a new volume, and his mouth finding mine swallowing our sounds and feeding one another more.

When it was over, we took a few moments to hold on and get our breathing back under control and our hearts beating back in order. Once I knew that I could stand without falling over, I did, moving away and pulling on my clothes after taking the gun from the ground. I watched as Negan did the same, pulling on his pants, his shirts, his jacket. I had to admit, he was gorgeous. Evil, hell bent on destruction and chaos, but fucking easy on the eyes.

Dressed, I waited for him to try to run, to rush from me or jump back on the damn bike and go. He didn’t. He pulled Judith’s compass from his pocket and handed it to me. He told me he’d found nothing. There was nothing left. And then, looking down at me he touched my chin with his thumb, and offered that there was something worth staying for in Alexandria.

“You know you’re going right back-” His thumb brushed my bottom lip stopping me.

“In my cell?” His voice was quiet, and he wasn’t smirking or smiling. “I know, Miss Grimes, I know.” And then, as we turned to go, his smirk came back. “You gonna visit?”

I shook my head. Such an asshole. “Maybe.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd found Negan. I'd brought him back to Alexandria safe and sound and he was locked up night and tight in his cage. Of course my sister-in-law would give me a new 'job'...Of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One shot? What is this 'one shot' you speak of?

Michonne was happy I’d found Negan. She was less happy when I insisted on sitting down Judith and explaining how completely irresponsible she’d been by NOT shooting him, if not dead, then in his less than curvy ass. I told her that being mad at her mom, at me, or at the restrictions she thought she had was no excuse for the shit that happened today. Judith listened, and argued a few times. Little shit. She was lucky I loved her tiny ass so damn much. After a hug and a promise that she’d remember that Negan wasn’t her own personal live action figure, I faced my brother’s second wife.

“Feel better?” Michonne asked, rolling her eyes. I nodded and she grinned, pulling me in for a hug. “You’re tougher on her than I am,” she whispered into my hair. “I have a job for you.” She said as she pulled away and picked up RJ.

I kissed my nephew on his forehead. “Hey, buddy, you miss Auntie Evie while she was off on her completely annoying field trip?” I felt Michonne chuckle as RJ reached for me. Taking him from her I waited for this new ‘job’.

“Guard Negan.” Wait, what? I looked at her over RJ’s headful of curls. “Don’t give me that look.” She warned with a grin. “You’re not scared of him. You may have wanted to kill him, but you didn’t.” My bad, next time, I thought. “You know what Rick wanted, Evie. Carl’s wish.” Oh, for fuck’s sake, lay on the goddamn guilt why don’t you? I rolled my eyes and bounced RJ in my arms making a silly face so he’d give me one of his adorable giggles.

Sighing I nodded. “Fine.” I growled. “What shift?”

The night shift. Of course. Because when would Negan be most vulnerable? When it was dark and dank.

My first shift came that night. After riding him like a fucking stallion. After promising him his former lodgings in his cage. After FLIRTING with the asshole on the topic of whether or not I’d visit him, I would be. Not on my own volition, but would he REALLY believe that? Of course not.

“Well, well, well.” Damn it. “Look who came to visit my sorry ass. And on the VERY same day as our first-” I rolled my eyes and pulled the chair that was placed on the ‘safe’ side of the bars over to sit down in front of my ward.

“Sorry ass?” I studied him through the bars. “More like no ass.” He grinned. I tried to get comfortable in the chair, but it was a SHITTY chair. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping, or getting ready to sleep?”

He was giving me a grin that told me that he was remembering fully what we’d done on that fucking bike earlier in the day. Shit. “Maybe you could help me work up some exhaustion, sweetheart.” His grin grew when I rolled my eyes. “I was tired as fuck when we got back here.”

I smirked. “That could have been from the walking, Negan.” I squirmed in the hard chair. Shit was Michonne punishing me by making my ass hurt all damn night? “Did you have to take a nap? Did you get a snack first? I’d ask about juice boxes, but I guess those are a thing of the past.”

A soft chuckle met my comments. “Comparin’ me to a toddler after what we fucking did earlier? Never would have taken you for havin’ a thing for kids, sweetheart.”

I shook my head. “You’re incorrigible.” I looked around, the light was minimal, to the point of shadows and moonlight. Stretching my short legs out in front of me and crossing my arms over my chest, I sighed. “Seriously, did you rest earlier?”

He licked his lips and I felt my stomach clench. “Why?”

“Curious.” I answered, giving a dismissive shrug.

It was Negan’s turn to study me. I could almost feel the path his gaze took. I’d showered and changed my clothes into something more comfortable and less durable. Leggings, an oversized t-shirt, ever present boots, and my hair in a knot on the top of my head. The weapons were within reach, but out of sight. Why tempt the devil even if he seemed resigned to his fate? Although the way he was looking at me, I was tempting him with an entirely different temptation.

“I’m fully rested, princess.” Shit, that flutter in my stomach grew. “Looks like you are too.”

“I’d have to be,” my voice was quiet. “Gotta keep you safe, don’t I?” I shifted in the chair and his eyes followed my movement. “Besides this chair feels about as comfortable as sitting on a fucking pin cushion.”

He patted his cot. “I’ve got some padding for you right here, Evie.” Damn it. “All you have to do is open the cage and come on in.”

“Do you honestly think that I’m giving you another shot at escape?” I shook my head again.

His laugh was quiet. “Told you, nothing is out there for me.” He was still staring at me. “Why be uncomfortable all the way over there, when you could come in here and be-”

“Fucked senseless?” I cut him off.

“Didn’t hear any complaints earlier.” I could feel the heat of his smile from my seat. “I could toss the pillow on the floor, if the idea is so repulsive.” A challenge, loud and clear.

I stood up and stretched. Two minutes in and I had knots in my back. I smiled at a satisfying crack that released a little of the pressure. Instead of trying the chair again, I walked to the bars that separated us, and looped my arms through to lean against them comfortably. “Maybe I don’t want to sit down, Negan.”

He stood up from his cot and moved to stand in front of me. “I could always push you against one of the walls in here and fuck you just as senseless, princess.” He licked his lips again, and then bit his lip. Damn it. “Tell me you aren’t thinking about how fucking hot screwing one another on that bike out there was?” I swallowed when I felt the flash of heat rush through me. “How well I fit inside that tight little slit of yours?” Shit. “How fucking good it felt to ride me?” He shook his head and gave a quiet moan. “Cause, I promise you this, sweetheart, it’s ALL I can fucking think about.”

Shit, fuck, shit. He was close enough to touch, so I did. My fingertips grazed his arm, and he came closer, closing his eyes as I reached higher to touch his cheek. “All you can think about?” He nodded, eyes closed as my fingertips traced his lips. “Do you think about how wet I was?” It was his turn to swallow. “How tightly I clamped around you?” He was going to draw blood if he kept biting down on his lip like that. “How my lips felt on yours?” I touched the dip of his chin and his eyes opened to burn down into mine.

“Unlock the cage, sweetheart.” A plea. That’s how Negan sounded. Like he was pleading. “Unlock the door, and come in here so we can get fucking lost in one another again.”

I wanted to. Fuck did I want to. But I couldn’t. Not tonight. Not yet.

“I think we both know that’s not happening, Negan.” I pulled my arms back to my side of the bars. “Go to sleep. I’ll make sure no one tries to kill you.”

He groaned, but seemed to see the conviction in my words. “Fine.” He was on the cot before I could blink, lying down with his head cradled on his arm. “Just know, Evie Grimes, that I’m gonna have your hot naked body riding me running through my fucking dreams all goddamn night.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guarding Negan...At night... Did I really think he would EVER stop talking?

What’s worse than getting night guard duty for Negan? The chair that Michonne had put down here for ‘visitors’. Ugh. I was making a mental list for things that I was going to be requesting if this duty of mine was going to continue. First, a fucking comfortable chair. There was one no one sat in or needed in our house. Claimed. I glanced around at the dimness of the ‘jail’. Lantern, that was item number two for my comfort. That way I could read. Or draw dicks on his face while he slept. Anything other than fucking dim light and pain in my ass. I was adding things when I heard it. Him.

“Evie,” Negan moaned, and I squinted into the darkness of his cell to see if he needed something or was just fucking with me. And then, again, only far more tortured and just a tad louder. “That’s right, sweetheart, right there.” Shit, was Negan having a wet dream about me? I heard the cot make a noise that told me he was shifting position and I leaned forward to try to make out what he was doing. And I saw his arm move from under his head and then his hand was right over the very obvious even in the dimness bulge of his pants. Fuck. He rocked his hips as his hand cupped his bulge and I felt my mouth go dry. “Shit, princess, fuck.” Another moan and I stood up. He was too loud. If anyone was walking by, that damn window of his wasn’t enough insulation against the rising volume of his voice. “Evie, fuck.” Damn it.

I unlocked the cell door and stepped inside. I should slap the shit out of him, but that would no doubt make him louder. Fuck. I stepped lightly toward him, and looked down at his head thrown back, mouth open, and eyes tightly shut. Rocking those fucking hips against his own palm, what a damn waste. “Negan?” I was whispering, trying to get him to hear me, but I swear to fuck if my voice didn’t just make his moan longer. Damn it. “Negan?” I was right over top of his cot, looking down, trying to decide the best way to wake him up in the midst of an active wet dream. Shit. I leaned over and touched his face lightly with my fingertip, and he leaned into my touch.

“More.” He begged, and fuck if I didn’t feel a clench of pure fucking lust. “More, Evie.” Damn it.

I cupped his cheek with my palm and leaned closer, letting my breath fan his face. “Wake up, Negan.” It was barely a breath, but his eyes opened and he stilled. Shit, was this a trick?

“Fuck,” he groaned and then he was pulling me over and on top of him. “Best fucking dream ever,” he moaned as his hands drew my head to his. He licked into my mouth and I had to hold down my own fucking moan at the very taste of him. Goddamn it, was this man a potent drug? His teeth nipped on my bottom lip and then my hands were opening the buttons of his shirt and he was tugging my over-sized shirt over my head. His shirt and mine met the floor and his mouth was on my neck. “I’m not dreaming am I, Evie?” I shook my head as my nails bit into his shoulders through his undershirt. “Thank fucking God.” And his mouth latched onto my collarbone as I was yanking his shirt up his back. He released me long enough for it to join our growing pile of clothes on the damn floor. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” and then his mouth was on my chest, kissing his way lower. “Lay back, sweetheart.” I did, and he smiled into my skin. Licking down my stomach as his fingers slid under the elastic waistband of my leggings. “Kick off your shoes, Evie.” A second order I’d take from his mouth. They made a quiet bump when each hit the floor at the end of his cot. And then he was tugging the leggings down my hips and legs and they hit the floor. “Do you just hate fucking underwear of all types, or is this to torture me?” He was moaning against my bare skin and I smiled.

“I thought I was promised a fucking against one of these walls, Negan.” I raised an eyebrow in the dim light that filtered in from the outside and he caught it as he looked up from his position below.

“Your wish, princess,” and then he was standing, his pants a memory and I was in his arms, back pressed against the hard and rough concrete brick wall of his cell. And then he slid inside me and we both sighed. “Jesus, I could get used to this.” He whispered, his face buried into the curve of my neck. I rolled my hips and he hissed, biting down on my shoulder. “Fuck, Evie, slow. I’m already nearly fucking done.”

“Then move faster and catch me up, Negan.” I dared and he took up the challenge like his life depended on it. Slamming into me without mercy, as my legs locked around his hips and urged him on this time. “Fuck, yes.” I growled, staring into his eyes as he watched my face. “Right fucking there, Negan, fuck.” And my orgasm screamed through me, forcing me to lean forward and kiss him with as much violence as his hips were inflicting. I bit his lip as he kept moving. He growled and bit into my mouth.

He hadn’t been lying. He was almost there when we started, so the wall fuck took practically no time, but even with the urgency, he took me with him when he went. My head fell back, smacking the brick, but not hard enough to take me away from the absolute fucking perfection that him filling me full brought. His body collapsed into mine, pinning me to the wall, our bodies slick with a sheen of sweat and both of us panting like we’d run miles.

Negan was kissing my shoulder, my neck, my cheek, then my lips. Almost reverently. As though he felt so much for me, when it was just sex, wasn’t it? A release, for both of us, that had come after a very long dry spell. Well, my dry spell was no doubt longer than his, but still. I found myself brought out of my thoughts with the reality that my hands, traitor hands, were sliding over his arms and back in the same appreciative way his lips were learning my skin. Fuck.

“Let me down,” I asked, quietly. He stilled, but he did as I asked. I swallowed hard, looking up into his eyes, clearer to see since he’d picked the wall under the small window. “We can’t keep doing this.” I gestured between our naked bodies and felt my own mind and body flinch at the thought that this was the last time. “It’s-

“Don’t you say it’s wrong, Evie Grimes.” His voice sounded low and dangerous. Damn it. “Don’t you dare fucking say it’s wrong. You want this as much as I do.”

I moved past him, looking down. “I never said I didn’t WANT it, Negan.” I bent down and clutched the pile of our mixed clothes and started sorting his from mine. “I said that we can’t keep doing it.”

I felt him come closer, the heat of his body reaching me before his skin. And then he was pressed against my back. “Why?” I shut my eyes and begged for strength. “Why can’t it?”

I let out a breath. “Because, Negan, you’re not getting out of this damn cage.” I pulled away and it felt like I’d cut off a limb leaving his warmth. “You won’t be free, and I would be as caged as you.” I shook my head and keeping my back to him started pulling on my clothes. “It’s not fair to either of us.”

He was quiet, and stayed naked, since his clothes were on the cot in front of me as I dressed. His silence was unnerving, Negan was never silent. I had to sit on the cot to pull my boots on and that when he spoke. “Torture. That’s what you are.” He shook his head, and I saw him run his hand down his face. “She sent you to fucking torture me.”

“I’m not a sadist, Negan.” I whispered, and stood once my boots were on. “I’m not a pawn, and I never planned on this.”

I started for the still open door of the cell. “You’re not, and YOU didn’t, but you don’t think that the people here, the people you fucking trust so much wouldn’t torture me, wouldn’t USE you to torture me?” I could hear the pain in his voice and I turned to face him. “Evie Grimes, you’re far too fucking smart to be this stupid.” And as I closed the cell door, taking a seat on that hard as fuck chair, I let his words filter though my head.

I barely noticed Negan dressing and lying back down. I didn’t answer his gruff, “goodnight.” I was too lost in the mere idea that my own family and community may have played me into a role that I wouldn’t have thought possible.

Negan was still asleep, or he was ignoring me when the morning dawned. I left, knowing that Alexandria was waking up and that Father Gabe would be over to check on Negan not too long after the day started. I opened up the door to the house that I shared with my sister-in-law and niece and nephew. I kicked off my boots in my room on the first floor and lay down on my bed. I contemplated his words. Wanting so completely to push them out as utter bullshit, but could I?

The entire point of Negan being locked up was so he was miserable. Why put me in charge of his night guard? Sure, I was harsh and sarcastic, but so was he. I was abrasive at times, please pick a better word to describe Negan, I dare you. My brother had made it perfectly clear that Negan’s only real pleasure in life would be in being allowed to live. That was it. Fed, clothed, watered, but alone and alive. Rick would never have thought having a female, especially not me, guard him was a good idea.

I drifted off eventually. But it wasn’t an easy sleep. How could it be, when every thought that was running through my mind was who I could trust, really?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams are a wish your heart makes? Are they?

I was sitting in the far more comfortable chair that I’d had Gabe and Siddiq carry down to Negan’s jail. A lantern sat next to me, a book in my hand.

“Light at night,” Negan sighed. “Such a luxury. How’d you talk them into allowing it?” He asked, his arms looped through the cell bars.

I smiled up at him from my less tortuous seat. “They’re for my pleasure and comfort, not yours, it wasn’t difficult to get my way.”

“Do you always get your way, Evie?” His voice had gotten lower. A sign I’d learned that his mind had gone there. Where I was insisting that it couldn’t go. I swallowed and tried to refocus on my book.

“Not always,” it was a breath, but I knew he heard me. And then he was kneeling in front of me, out of his cage, his hands sliding up my legs.

“That’s a fucking shame, princess,” he leaned forward and his lips met my now bare legs. Kissing my knee, his hands parting my legs. “Let me give you everything you want, Evie.” And then his mouth was against my bare folds and I moaned.

The moan in my dream woke my ass right the fuck up, since I heard myself. Shit. My hand was between my legs, touching myself and I was panting. Oh, for fuck’s sake. I groaned, pulling my hand away and rolling over and pressing my face into my pillow. Negan. What the hell? I had my face tight against the pillow, trying to decide if smothering myself would help when I heard Judith’s voice call from outside my door.

“Aunt Evie?” I waited, wondering if she needed me immediately. “Are you OK?” Shit, she heard me.

I called out for her to come on in, rolling over and propping myself up to sit against my headboard. She came in, Rick’s hat not perched on her head, but I knew it wasn’t far from her. Patting the empty side of my bed, I grinned when she jumped up beside me. She leaned her head against my shoulder and sighed.

“Am I allowed to talk to him?” I shook my head, Negan, of course. “He helps me with my homework sometimes.”

“Did you ask your mom?” I tilted my head so my cheek was pressed against the top of her head. I felt her nod. “What did she say?”

“She didn’t answer, she just stared at me.” I chuckled. “I won’t let him escape again, Evie.”

“I think she knows that, sweetie.” I took her hand in mine, and held it. “I know that Negan is compelling. He’s interesting. And he’s funny.” Judith listened to me, but wasn’t offering anything. “Negan and your dad, they-”

That made her speak. “Dad kept him alive, Evie.” I grinned, always outspoken, wonder who she takes after? “Doesn’t that mean that he didn’t HATE him?”

I sighed. “It’s not that simple, Jude.” I considered how to explain. I knew that Carl had left her a letter like he had the rest of us, but I had never been nosy enough to try to read it. “Carl really wanted peace, but-” Another sigh. “It just wasn’t-” I was struggling. The more I thought about Carl and his wish, the more I questioned WHY Rick and Negan couldn’t have tried. But was that me, or the nugget of doubt that I now had because of my lust for him?

“Aunt Evie?” I moved my head from where I was leaning into hers and her eyes looked up into mine. “Do you like Negan?”

Shit. Fuck. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t know, sweetheart.” And I didn’t know if I ‘liked’ Negan. I was growing scared that I felt far more than ‘like’. “You’re going to have to ask your mom if you can visit him, if he can help you with your homework.” I wasn’t making those decisions, not now. “I’ll be out in a bit, OK?”

Judith hugged me. “I’m sorry that you had to go after him, Aunt Evie.” She was whispering into my neck. “But I’m glad you found him.”

“Me too, honey, me too.” And then she pulled away and bounced back out of my room.

I did have the chair moved to his jail. And I did carry down a lantern and book for entertainment once Negan fell asleep. He didn’t say a word to me when I came down. He was laying on his cot, staring up at the ceiling, which he could see better once the lantern was on. I settled into the far more cushy chair, and opened my book.

I heard him huff out a breath. I heard the cot squeak as he shifted. I heard everything but what I wanted to hear. His voice. Saying my name. Taunting, mocking, fucking moaning, I didn’t care what tone he picked. Just say something, damn it.

I bit my lip and tried my damnedest to focus on the words on the page. I’d started the book a few days earlier, it was a good story, but if anyone asked me at the moment what it was about I’d draw a blank. For all I fucking knew it was no longer in English. Damn it, how the fuck could he be so damn distracting while being QUIET?

Another sigh from his cage. Another page turned on my side. A standoff in every sense of the fucking word.

And then I heard the squeak of the cot, my eyes flicked up to see him sitting sideways, back against the wall behind him and his eyes on me. I felt that pull and tug in my stomach. Silence. I licked my lips and feigned reading. The sound of his zipper was as loud as a fucking bomb going off in the silence of the fucking room. Surely not. He wouldn’t. Not while I was sitting here.

A glance from beneath my eyelashes told me he WOULD. And he was. His hand was wrapped around his shaft and he was watching me as he stroked up and down his hard length. No sound, but his breathing, and the occasional screech of the cot’s springs. I bit my lip, turned another page, and watched him. His hand moved slow, up and down, and I fought a squirm of my own. I swallowed as I watched his hand covertly, the movement almost hypnotic. I didn’t notice that I’d begun breathing faster. I didn’t remember to turn my pages. I watched his hand, on his cock, and I was JEALOUS. Of his fucking hand.

“Evie,” finally, I sighed, hearing his voice finally. “Come on, Evie,” could the devil himself sound as tempting? “Open the door, princess, come in.” He moaned as his fingers brushed the head of his hardness. “Come on, sweetheart.”

I was on my knees in front of him before I even noticed moving or opening the damn door. I moved his hand, and mine took its place. My eyes met his and then his mouth was on mine. I growled as his tongue met mine. I needed him. I was absolutely fucking powerless where he and his body were concerned. I broke the kiss and lowered my mouth to taste him.

“Fuck, Evie,” his moan was low and deep, but also quiet. I heard his head meet the wall behind him. “Jesus, sweetheart, please.” He was begging me, pleading as I left not a bit of his most sensitive skin untasted. “Please, Evie, please.” And then I was in his arms and my pants were forgotten on the floor next to my boots and he was buried deep inside of me. “This is right, Evie.” He was growling against my mouth. “Us, this? It’s so fucking right, princess.” And I knew that he was right. How could feeling like this be wrong? Even if it was with him? Even if I was who I was?

My face was tucked into his neck when we finished. I breathed him in, knowing that I couldn’t deny him. Not this, anymore more than I could deny myself. “What the hell am I supposed to do about this?” I whispered and his hand was sliding through my hair. I closed my eyes at the soothing feeling of his fingers in my curls.

“Just let us have it, Evie.” His voice rumbled through him and I let myself feel it and him. “This is enough, for now.”


End file.
